Jane's Tangle
by LTP-girl
Summary: Post-canon Jane becomes involved in a liaison with a man from her former life in Lawndale. Meanwhile, Principal Anthony DeMartino is suspicious of a new student at Lawndale High, who also happens to be the new Quarter Back for the football team.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own the _Daria_ and its characters.

**Jane's Tangle**

Chapter 1

Anthony DeMartino stared despondently into the glass of eight-year-old scotch sitting in front of him. His head slumped in misery as he contemplated the events of that day. It had been his third week as acting principal of Lawndale High School, and the public education system had already been made a mockery of at his first board meeting for the term. His secretary had passed out drunk in front of Superintendant Judith Braden, who had irately declared that the meeting be held at a later date. This had been his fourth blunder in front of the Superintendant in a row, and she had not been impressed.

So here he was drinking his sorrows once again at the Liquid Dinner, the one place he sought solace during his teaching career. He didn't think he'd ever return to such an establishment since his promotion.

"You're just having a bad day," Deputy Principal Claire Defoe had insisted as they left his office for lunch that afternoon.

Anthony somehow doubted that. He considered that foul play was to blame, one of his students slipping his secretary a mickey perhaps, and he could guess the culprit in plain sight. He felt that there was something sly about the new Quarterback who had just recently joined the Lawndale Lions, young hot-shot Ethan Marks, despite there being no sufficient evidence to prove his involvement in his secretary's drunken stupor, or anything else that went against his character. Unlike QBs before him, Ethan Marks had a sharp mind underneath that metal helmet, along with a devil-may-care callousness towards his fellow classmates at Lawndale High. It had even been rumoured that he had been removed from his last school due to a drug-fuelled incident involving the sexual assault of a cheerleader.

He took another swig of his drink, the alcohol beginning to numb his senses.

Not far behind him, Jane Lane eyed the smartly dressed man sitting at the bar across the room, admiring his slender build, his jacket removed and shirt sleeves rolled up, as he leaned over the bar. Ever since she had accidently nailed her Historic Artefacts professor at the Boston Fine Arts Fall Benefit she had developed somewhat of a taste for mature men.

She had spent that Friday afternoon in what was, for her, not a usual way. No sooner than after she had left the airport she had met up with Trent to help him hunt down a new pick for his guitar. Tedious and time consuming if you asked her, but Trent was adamant in finding a pick that was just right, otherwise he wouldn't be inspired when writing lyrics.

She was tired, she was bored, and she was looking for some fun, maybe even somewhat dangerous fun.

She made her way stealthily towards the older man that had caught her eye.

It wasn't common form, her approaching sleazy old men in bars. She usually waited for them to approach her, but there was something intriguing about this guy that awakened her interest. Something dark and alluring. Handsome, slender, with a full head of salt and pepper hair that she could lose a hand in, and he certainly didn't come across as sleazy. Perhaps it was the three glasses of Sauvignon she had consumed earlier tweaking her perception.

She let her fingers run playfully along the gentleman's arm to get his attention.

Anthony's eyes raised, a little surprised to hear a young woman's voice.

"Hey Pappa Bear, you want some company tonight?" Jane asked in a low voice.

Anthony pushed his glass of scotch aside. I must be drunk.

"Don't you want to take me to some seedy hotel room . . ." She moved a little closer, the sharp scent of his cologne pricking her senses, and whispered into his ear. "Where we can do the nasty?"

The words escaped her mouth too quickly, and she hoped for the life of her that her chosen pickup line hadn't made him misconstrue her as a hooker.

The man looked up at her.

She staggered back, horrified. "Auggh, Mr. DeMartino? What are _you_ doing here?"

"Miss. Lane?" he quipped, equally surprised to see her. "I should ask you the same thing." He couldn't remember the last time he had seen her, and realised that he hadn't seen her since her graduation, that making it years. She still appeared young, his reasoning telling him that she was possibly too young to be turning tricks.

"I just needed to get out," she told him, taking a seat next to him and ordering herself another glass of wine. "I'm home for old times' sake, just wanted to visit the old relics of my former life. You're the last person I planned on seeing though."

His head slumped in discouragement.

"I didn't mean it like that. I'm kind of glad to see you, actually."

"So ah, when did you get back to Lawndale?"

They chatted about old times. She had told him about her life in Boston, the people, her current art projects, nights out, and the men. He told her about the challenges in his new job as Principal.

Anthony didn't know his former student quite as well as he thought he did.

"So how about you, are you seeing anyone special?" Jane wanted to know.

Anthony almost choked on his drink hearing those words. "Me? Na."

"Then let's get out of here," she said, feeling herself drowning in the silver-blue of his eyes.

She flirtatiously slid her fingers through his greying hair, a sense of mischief hindering behind a superficial innocent expression.  
His eyes widened, astounded by her forthright advances. He had to admit, it had been a while since he had last received such attention from a beautiful young woman.

She leaned close to him and whispered something risqué into his ear.

He chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. "Oh sweetie, trust me I'd love to," he said. "But ah..."

"But what?"

He rested his arm on the bar, his eyes staring her up and down. There was no denying she was attractive, and if she hadn't been a former student, he would have bought her a drink, shared some harmless sweet-talk, and then taken her home with him.

"I'm your teacher, we can't."

"You were my teacher, but you're not anymore. You wouldn't get in any trouble. It's not like Miss. Li's around to ream your ass. She died, right?"

His eyes widened in disbelief. "I'm too old for you."

"No you're gorgeous. Anyways, I don't think age matters, you know, if two people get along. On the nights I couldn't sleep I used to think about you and . . ." She leaned closer to whisper in his ear once more.

Anthony couldn't help but laugh, more out of embarrassment than flattery. "You are artless!" He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. "Aww, you'd have to be drunk missy, to chase after an old guy like me."

He finished off the remainder of his scotch, and banged his empty glass on the bar, before the barman announced that it was near closing time.

They met a loud clap of thunder followed by a deluge of falling rain as they reached the door.

"You can't expect a young lady in my condition to travel home alone in this weather, can you? Chivalry's not dead."

His lips curled up in response to the eager twinkle in her eyes. After the day he had, he could do with a distraction to keep his mind off the meeting with the Superintendant, and his chance encounter with Jane could be enough to do that.

"Alright, we'll head back to my place," he relented, as they walked together towards the end of the curb. "On the condition that you keep your hands to yourself."

Jane sidled closely to him as he hailed a cab.

What do you think so far? Feel free to review:-D


	2. Chapter 2

[u]Chapter 2 [/u]

Friday was a busy afternoon, for everyone except Jane. She would be spending the evening at home alone, confined to the indoors, given the dreary weather outside. She figured that she could use the time to work on her [i]French Art History[/i] essay, having fallen behind in her classes over the past couple of weeks, not to mention having lost all inspiration for her upcoming [i]Impressionist[/i] assignment. She removed the library books she had taken out that afternoon from her school bag, along with her laptop computer, and set up for work at the kitchen table. At least the walls will be pleased with her pedagogical efforts, she thought to herself begrudgingly. She sat herself down at the table, the book [i]An Historical Take on French Art[/i] opened at page 234, [i]Jean Fouquet's influence on the French Renaissance[/i]. She considered she'd focus her argument on how the artist grafted elements of the Tuscan style while still preserving his purely French sentiment.

It was then that she vaguely heard the house phone in the kitchen ringing.

She checked the caller ID cautiously before answering, not recognizing it at first.

"Hello?"

"Am I speaking to a Miss. Lane?"

She felt her heart stop for a moment in excitement when she recognised who it was. "A young woman by that name does live here."

There was a hint of gravel in his voice, and she discovered why history wasn't such a boring subject in high school.

"You remember last week?" He asked her.

There was a moment of silence. Hearing his voice made her feel like a school girl all over again. "Well, Anthony," she replied as calmly as possible, trying to suppress the feeling of her heart leaping from her chest. "To be honest, making cannoli together, and having the man sleep on the couch while the woman sleeps in the bed isn't all that memorable. I don't want to do that until [i]after[/i] we're married, and notice how I said [i]woman[/i] and not [i]girl[/i] Anthony? You're not a dirty old man for being attracted to me."

"You wouldn't be saying all of that if you didn't like me, so I'll take that you don't mind my calling you?"

"Mind? No. It's so good hear from you again. Perhaps this time we meet, I'll have the chance to suppress my fetish for tall, middle aged, history teachers."

"Who's middle aged?" He chuckled. "I'm pleased to hear that you're still interested. I was hoping that our little, ah, meeting wouldn't be the only one we'd have," he said smoothly.

She was delighted by his words.

"So, ah, I'm free for the rest of the evening," he continued. "If you're interested? Maybe we could get something to eat and go from there…"

"I'd love to," she replied, before he could finish what he was saying. "As long as you promise [i]not to[/i] act like such a perfect gentleman this time."

"Okay," he agreed. "As long as you refrain from being so forceful. I'm not the sort of man who likes to rush things."

"A man who takes his time is [i]kinda[/i] sexy, I guess," Jane teased.

"What time do you want me to pick you up?"

She glanced down at the time displayed in the corner of her computer screen. "About eight. I'll text you my address."

"Okay, I'll pick you up at eight," he replied. "See you sweetie. Stay beautiful for me."

Anthony slid his blackberry into his pocket, before dropping several files of paperwork into his briefcase.

There was a knock at the door before Timothy O'Neil entered his office. "Hey Anthony," he greeted. "I couldn't help but overhear that you have plans with a special lady tonight?"

Anthony snorted, agitated by his friend's frequent intrusion into his personal life. "Can't keep a lid on anything in this office."

Timothy approached him with two steaming mugs of herbal tea in his hands. He sighed in response to the grey and drizzly weather outside, and placed one of the mugs of hot liquid on Anthony's desk. "I just wanted to congratulate you," he said applauding. "It's been a while since you've, well… been out with a girl…"

"You're not asking if you and Janet can tag along, are you?" Anthony's face revolted as he sniffed the repellent odour wafting from the steaming mug of what was [i]supposed[/i] to be tea.

Timothy leaned against the bookcase, a thoughtful expression on his face. "A double date? Now that sounds [i]festive[/i]. How do you feel about Ethiopian food?"

"Forget I said anything Timothy. I will not share the same row of seats with that woman at a teachers' conference, let alone have dinner with her, no matter who she's accompanied by!"

Timothy sat himself down on the edge of Anthony's desk. "It's too bad you never warmed to Janet's abrasive exuberance."

"Maybe THIS has something to do with it!" Anthony pointed to a small scar above the tip of his lip. "My first week teaching at Lawndale, Fall of '86, the woman pushed me into the glass trophy cabinet in the foyer of the library, just because I held the door open for her and offered to carry her bag of books. I should have read the slogan on the t-shirt she was wearing, [i]Sisters doin' it for themselves since '63[/i]."

"We don't have a trophy cabinet in foyer of the library."

"Exactly."

"It'll do you good to get out in any case," he said, ignoring Anthony's distain towards his soon-to-be wife.

The two men had been through a lot together over the years, teaching side by side at Lawndale High School, under the punitive administration of the late Ms. Angela Li. Anthony couldn't believe how hastily Timothy ran back to Janet's arms, after they both solemnly agreed that leaving Janet was the best thing for Timothy's wellbeing.

"Since when were you so concerned about my personal life?" Anthony wanted to know.

"Well, one thing's for sure, all work and no play makes Anthony a very mean teacher, or I should say Principal, now that you've got your promotion."

An exasperated sigh escaped Anthony's mouth upon discovering a copy of the previous years' budget plans, drawn up by none other than Principal Li, a thick booklet, in the top drawer of his desk. What had bothered him most was the singular line placed in the centre of the first page, which stated in clear, bold, print [i][b]the cutting of study supplies to the History faculty a top priority.[/b][/i] "There'll be a lot of changes to this school," he vowed quietly, tears pricking the brim of his good eye. "Goddamn allergies! What was Ms. Li's preoccupation with collecting dust?"

Timothy handed Anthony a handkerchief.

Claire Defoe entered through the side door of his office, her softly spoken voice breaking his thoughts. "Anthony, Dianne and I are heading to a book signing after work. You're welcome to join us if you like?"

He shrugged on his suit jacket. "I would, but I have other plans."

She nodded, folding her arms, exchanging a wry smile with Timothy. "I'll take that as a [i]no[/i]."

Timothy turned around to face her. "Anthony will be courting this evening with some lucky lady."

"Watch it Timothy, I heard that. [i]Oh I heard that[/i]. This old wolf has more radar than that new-age gadget the job forces me carry around in my back pocket."

"Oh, do you gentlemen want me to leave?"

"Don't mind us, Ms. Defoe, just brotherly talk hear."

Claire raised her eyebrows. "So, Anthony who might this lady be? It's not Carol from Student Services is it? She's had a thing for you since day one," she informed him. "Just a word of advice, she has a real breath problem. Not that I'm making fun of people with that sort of medical issue."

"No it's not Carol. Just some girl I met in bar last week," he said. He felt his blackberry beeping in his pants pocket, and quickly retrieved it, pleased with Jane's hasty response. He clutched the handle of his briefcase and headed towards the door, reading the text message on his way out. "Sorry, I've got to go," he called out to his two colleagues. "I'll keep you posted with any new developments regarding the joint Public School Carnival over the weekend. I hear Lawndale Heights is willing to team up with us this year, that's if we can get Chesterton Junior High on board. Makes for good surplus for our upcoming curriculum expansion, don't you think." And with that, he was down the corridor, pushing his way onto the already crowded elevator full of noisy students from an after-school drama club meeting.

Claire and Timothy exchanged bemused glances in response to Anthony's odd behaviour.

"Well, they say change is as good as a holiday," Timothy quipped on a lighter note.


End file.
